Page 4 of Wicked Design
“I know this is hard.” Lauren stroked Clover’s arm. “No one’s shyer than I am. If Dante hadn’t pursued me, I’d probably be watching him and another woman by now. Molly would have been their kid. Lucky for me he’s so lusty.” Her gaze grew unfocused. Pink bloomed in her cheeks, the shade matching her jeans. “That man knows how to seduce and romance.”
“My guys, too.” Jasmina’s dark eyes gleamed. “They could give John Mayer and Colin Farrell pointers on how to attract women. I never knew men could stay awake so long after marathon sex.”
Lauren sniggered. “I think I’ve shaved a couple of years off Dante’s lifespan a few times. Just saying.”
“I know.” Jasmina laughed. “I like to play with Noah’s and Kyle’s heads. Keep them going past the point the surgeon general would recommend.”
Huddled close, they talked fast and furious, trying to outdo each other with tales of their sexual adventures.
Van Gogh stepped away from his client, a thirty-something man who could’ve made a sumo wrestler cry. He lumbered past the front counter toward the back rooms. Clover steeled herself for Van Gogh’s approach. He had to pass the counter to get to his station. No way could he avoid her.
He did, hurrying past, not glancing her way.
She followed.
Another artist barreled down the hall toward her. She reared back.
So did he. “Sorry. Are you Amy Fetters?”
“What? No.”
“Oh. Thought you were my next job. Waiting room’s out there.” He pointed behind her. “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”
Clover slunk back to the counter.
Lauren offered a pleased smile. “That’s the spirit. Go for it. However, you need to wait until Van Gogh’s not busy with a client. Catch him during his break. Better yet, bring him something good to eat.”
Jasmina choked and coughed. “I think that’s the plan.”
They giggled.
Clover plodded to Van Gogh’s artwork. Lauren devoted a section on the right to his paintings and Tor’s sketches, both men accomplished artists. Van Gogh’s oils were as funky and dramatic as Vase with Red Poppies, The Starry Night, and Daubigny’s Garden, his namesake’s celebrated paintings. Like the real Van Gogh had done with those famous pieces, her Van Gogh had employed vivid colors and bold brush strokes. For his subjects, he used everyday settings and people that he made extraordinary.
The same as she did with her jewelry designs. If that didn’t make them made for each other, what did?
Jasmina bumped Clover’s arm. “If you’re planning to whack him with one of those frames to get his attention, I’ll help.”
“What if I buy a painting?” He’d have to talk to her during the sale. She could brag on his talent then, which was even better than flirting, and certainly more honest on her part. As an artist, he had no equal. “Maybe I could take all of them?” He couldn’t forget her after that.
“Have you seen the prices?” Lauren gestured to the nearest piece.
Clover gasped. “That one’s past my credit card limit.” Admittedly, she had less than a thousand available but still…
“The others cost more. Looks as if you’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
“Which is?”
Jasmina rocked on her heels. “Seduce him.”
“No.” Lauren spoke to Clover. “Talk to him. Say hi. Start a conversation.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. I’m so desperate, I’m even willing to bat my eyelashes and all the other junk women are supposed to do with guys. But how can I if he won’t even look at me or if he runs the other way when I approach? It’s not as if I can take a sledgehammer to his ankles to keep him from budging like that nut did to the writer in Misery.”
“Good point. That’s no way to begin a romance. You’ll have to be yourself. You’re perfect just as you are.”
Hardly that, but Clover felt comfortable in her own skin. Whether that equated to success with men was another matter entirely. “Maybe there’s another way.”
Jasmina and Lauren exchanged a glance.
Lauren spoke first. “How’s that?”
